


The Untouchables

by thehotinpsychotic



Category: My Chemical Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehotinpsychotic/pseuds/thehotinpsychotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard has always been perfectly content with the idea that he is a member of the very bottom social class at his school, the untouchables, essentially. He doesn't have any friends, and while nobody bullies him repeatedly, he is definitely ignored by his peers.</p><p>Freshman year comes, and he finds himself going from a public middle school to a private high school that is actually larger. Among the influx of new people coming from all over the large city, Gerard meets Frank Iero and his friend Ray Toro. Perhaps the two laid back boys could be just what Gerard needs to lighten up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Gerard knows himself well enough that at the ripe age of fifteen, he realizes that he is in no way “cool”. He knows that cool kids get invited to prom freshman year, they have rich parents, and they _don’t_ spend their Friday nights writing character cards for Dungeons and Dragons. Gerard only meets one of these qualifications. Yes, his parents are rich, and from an early age he found kids desperate to be his friends. That’s when Gerard was eight and he was the only kid on the block with a trampoline _and_ a slip and slide. But by the time he hit seventh grade, kids didn’t care so much about his cool toys, but more about what girls he liked.  They lost their interest in his race car bed, but became fascinated in who everyone hung out with. When they found out Gerard didn’t like, well, any girls, and that he didn’t really hang out with anyone, they ditched him. Gerard only really had one real friend named Patrick, but he ended up moving away halfway through seventh grade. As a result, the rest of seventh and all of eighth grade were Hell. He wasn’t bullied; but he was ignored.

He remembers how he used to try to get in with kids in seventh grade. In conversations where he wasn’t welcome, he would butt in, adding whatever comment he found to fit. If kids were discussing the location of a party or even a get together, Gerard would ask where. When he showed up to Adam Payne’s house and all of the boys responded by locking him out of the house, he took the hint that he wasn’t wanted. Not only by them, but by anyone.

So by eighth grade he had given up on a social life. He remembers the guidance counselor actually assigning some poor boy to be his friend. Maybe the boy wasn’t so innocent, because he ended up giving Gerard a wedgie to impress some girl.

That was the last time Gerard put the slightest effort into getting along with anyone. A new girl (who had been trying to make a romantic advance on Gerard) had asked,

      “Do these jeans make my ass look fat?”

      Gerard was oblivious to her attraction, and had replied without looking, “Yes.”

She had flipped him off in a huff, but he had his nose buried in a novel and didn’t notice.

Tomorrow is the first day of freshman year, so of course Gerard is blogging, listening to music, and drawing. These simultaneous activities have served as his favorite pass time over the summer. It was the only thing that really filled this strange void he has had within himself that he’s been neglecting for years.

Gerard pries himself from his desk, dropping into bed. He rolls over and closes his eyes, falling asleep within minutes.

The next morning, Gerard is awoken by his younger brother, Mikey, jumping on top of him, shouting,

“GER-AAAAAAAAAAARD! It’s the first day of school, get up!!”

Gerard shoves him to the side, groaning, “Let me sleep a little longer.”

      “You sleep any longer and I’ll be late!” Mikey protests.

“But how does that affect me?” Gerard moans sleepily.

Mikey snatches Gerard’s pillow out from underneath his older sibling’s head. He whaps Gerard on the back of the head with it, barking,

“Get… your… lazy… ass… up!”

“I’m up!” Gerard insists, pushing Mikey away. He swings his legs over the side of his bed, and watches his brother retreat downstairs before standing.

Gerard sulks over to his closet, wishing that summer break could last one day longer, if any. He pulls on his school uniform: a white dress shirt, red tie (for freshman), black blazer with the school emblem printed on the breast, and grey slacks with solid leather shoes. He inspects himself in the mirror, swiping a little bit of concealer over a pimple and fussing with his hair. He clomps down the steps, grabbing his packed book bag on his way out of his room.

Mikey’s sitting at the breakfast table scarfing down his breakfast. Gerard sits himself down, staring at Mikey absently.

“What?” Mikey demands, mouth full.

“Nothing,” Gerard assures.

Gerard drives to school, dropping Mikey off at the middle school on the way. Immediately upon setting foot onto school grounds, Mikey is swarmed with friends. Gerard sighs, and pulls out and off to the high school.

Gerard’s first impression of high school isn’t a good one. He cruises into the freshman/sophomore parking lot, and right off the bat he sees a huddle of kids exchanging a joint. He brushes it off as a few bad apples not necessarily ruining the whole bunch. However, when he approaches the front of the school, he already sees an incident of teasing.

A short, dark haired boy is having what Gerard can only assume to be his backpack tossed between what looks like three upperclassmen. Two of them are juniors; Gerard can tell by their blue ties, and another is a sophomore, as it indicated by their green tie. The bullied is wearing a red tie like Gerard’s, so he is a freshman as well. The boy darts from kid to kid, but every single time, by the time he reaches his beloved backpack, it is already being tossed to another teen. Gerard passes by, hiding his face so the older kids won’t notice him.

For a split second, Gerard considers helping the boy. He then figures that the kid must have done something to them, somehow deserved what he’s getting. Going into extensive explanations for everything is a great way to ignore whatever your heart’s saying and listen to your head. Gerard’s learnt this over the past couple of years.

Gerard dumps his items off into his locker, and luckily, it’s only five minutes until the bell rings, so he’s not left alone awaiting first period for too long. Not that he really minds being alone anymore, it’s just that other kids look at him strange and generally associates him with being a loser because of all his time spent by himself.

Gerard slouches against the wall, absently watching kids in their polished shoes and tucked in dress shirts discuss their summer vacation with the excitement and urgency as though it were the dawning of the space race.

The bell rings, and the kids are dispersed into different rooms. Gerard goes to his first class, which is Geometry, an advanced math class he really wish he wasn’t in.

When he arrives in the room, all of the kids in there seem to have already made themselves comfortable at a seat. Gerard sits down in the front row, and he can almost sense the smirk growing on the other kids’ faces. There’s about eleven of twenty empty chairs, four of which are in the back, and Gerard picked not only a front row seat, but front and center. He can hear the word,

“Freak,” coughed discreetly behind him. 

The boy that Gerard had seen outside the school getting harassed walks in. His tie is loose, hair a rats nest, shoes untied, and worst of all, shirt untucked and collar askew.

The boy must not realize that this is extremely disrespectful to the strict school dress code, because he saunters in, oblivious, and seats himself to the left of Gerard.

Luckily for the boy, the teacher is a laid back one, who is completely aware of the fact that he’s a new student and likely hasn’t read clause VII of article X in the North View Private School Handbook. She simply informs,

“Frank, you’re supposed to tuck your shirt in and straighten out your clothes. Just keep everything neat.”

“Thanks,” Frank mumbles into his chest, his chin tucked to his neck as he looks down at his wardrobe, adjusting it.

Class is boring; they spend it talking about what will be expected in the classroom and what will not be tolerated. The boy, Frank, pokes Gerard in the ribs with the tip of his pencil eraser. Gerard glares over, but the smaller boy isn’t intimidated. He actually smiles, and hands Gerard a piece of folded notebook paper. Gerard shoots the boy a quizzical look, but the boy simply gestures at the paper, and then turns his attention back to the front of the room.

Gerard opens it slowly, and on the inside, he finds written,

“Hey, stranger.

My name’s Frank Iero. I like dogs, Batman, and horror movies. You seem like an interesting guy. You should hang out with me and my friend Ray sometime. Maybe after school today? Are you first or second wave lunch?”

Gerard nudges Frank, whispering,

“Are you fucking serious?”

Frank cocks his head, as if he doesn’t quite understand. But he nods, assuring softly, “It’s for you.”

Gerard raises an eyebrow, and reads the note once more. He glances over at Frank, who is gazing at Gerard expectantly. Gerard grins, crumples the paper in his hand, and lets it fall to the floor. Frank’s jaw drops, and he looks like he’s going to cry.

Gerard feels a twinge of guilt; that was awfully mean. He wonders if he should apologize to Frank, when the boy bursts into a muffled fit of giggles.

Gerard recoils in surprise; he really doesn’t see what’s so funny. But Frank clasps his tiny hands over his mouth, suppressing his high pitched laughter.

“What?” Gerard asks, voice low.

“You’re too funny,” Frank responds quietly. “But really, first or second wave?”

Gerard scoffs; this boy must really be clueless socially to be so blatantly turned down and have it fly over his head. He does something he didn’t expect or exactly want himself to do, answering, “First wave.”

“Me too!” Frank replies. “We’ll talk then.” He shoots his head back to the front of the room, still smiling.

Gerard shakes his head, still in disbelief. 


	2. Just A Couple Of Examples Of How Having An Awkward Protagonist And A Hyperactive Love Interest Will Lead To Lightly Humorous Predicaments

Gerard arrives in the lunch room, tentatively sitting down at an empty table. He looks around for Frank, and for a moment or two, he thinks that maybe Frank was wrong; perhaps he was assigned the second lunch shift, not first. But when a black mop of hair comes bobbing over in a sea of taller kids, Gerard lets out a sigh, because he knows that can only be one person.

Just as Gerard thought, it’s Frank. Frank sits down next to him, slinging his backpack up onto the table. He begins to root through it, finally bringing out a metal Avengers lunch box. He opens it, and begins to empty its contents, spacing them out in front of himself.

Gerard squints to see what he’s eating. “What is that?”

Frank points his fork at his salad, explaining, “Everything in a salad but a meat, really.”

Gerard pokes a blue Tupperware container. “And those?”

“Sugar snap peas,” Frank replies, taking one of the pods out.

“Why are they called that?” Gerard questions.

Frank cracks open one, resulting in a loud pop. “That’s why.” He offers one to Gerard, who declines with a wave of his hand, insisting,

“I’m a boy who hates veggies.”

Frank shrugs, cracking open another and eating it.

Gerard grins and looks over Frank’s shoulder to see someone approaching. They’re a freshman with a white person afro, which Gerard finds to be extremely intriguing. He sits down by Frank, demanding,

“Frank, are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Frank shakes his head, sipping from a juice box defiantly.

Ray chuckles and holds his hand out to Gerard, greeting, “Hi, my name’s Ray.”

“Gerard,” Gerard answers, shaking his hand somewhat cautiously. Gerard feels like people who shake your hand are either really friendly genuine people or giant backstabbing superficial fucktrumpets trying to cover up their trails.

The three decide to go over to Ray’s house after school, since he has a pool in the backyard and a treehouse.

Gerard can tell that Frank and Ray are very close friends and have a very comfortable relationship, and this makes him not only unconsciously jealous, but also anxious. These two are just expecting him to magically weave into their friendship without being a third wheel? Gerard gets so nervous that he considers making up some pseudo excuse to get out of going over to his house. Luckily, as he struggles for a lie, Frank smiles at him and squeezes his knee.

It’s an odd gesture that would more likely be seen in a different relationship, but for some reason, it’s calming for Gerard, so his worries dissolve while the initial butterflies in his stomach stay.

Gerard doesn’t have a single more class period with Ray or Frank, so he spends most of the day absorbed into his own thoughts. When the final bell rings, Gerard texts Frank,

“Where do u want to meet”

Frank responds in seconds, which in most cases would irritate Gerard, but for some reason, Frank’s over eagerness in particular comes off to him as sweet.

“Next to the fountain”

They have a huge fountain in the center of campus, which, being a private school in Arizona, is widely outdoors. Gerard’s glad Frank just so happened to pick this location; if he’d picked anything at all obscure; it’s plausible that Gerard wouldn’t be able to find it.

The fact that Mikey no longer has a ride if Gerard goes to Ray’s house only hits Gerard when he sees his younger brother’s name in his contacts. He panics for a split second, and then calls him, walking as the line rings.

Ray and Frank are sitting on the granite ring around the fountain, waiting for Gerard. Ray has his laptop out on his lap, and his face is so focused that he must be working on classwork. Frank however, either isn’t in the class or doesn’t plan on doing the assignment, because he just pokes Ray and plays with his friend’s hair as Ray makes weak attempts at elbowing the smaller boy away.

When Gerard comes closer, Frank takes a general interest, and listens as Gerard begins,

“Mikes? Yeah, I can’t pick you up. Well, I don’t know, can’t you ride with Pete or someone? Jeez, sorry; I didn’t know! Yeah. Take the bus? Yeah, okay. Tell mom I’m at a friends’ house. No, I don’t feel sick!”

Gerard hangs up with a spat, “Goodbye, Mikey!” and by then, Frank is caught in a mess of laughter. Ray raises an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth at his friend, and looks at Gerard, mouthing,

“What?” to which Gerard simply shrugs.

They all pile into Ray’s car, since they’re all on school permits and therefore cannot drive themselves to his home. Frank gets in the passenger seat, chirping,

“Shotgun!”

Gerard groans and crawls into the back, sprawling his legs out across the seats and turns his back to the window. Ray starts up the car, and the radio buzzes to life, playing “Superman” by Souljia Boy.

“This song reminds me of third grade,” Frank recalls dreamily.

Ray flicks the radio to another station, declaring, “Too bad it’s terrible.” Frank recognizes the song that’s playing, and cranks up the volume. He turns around in his seat, unbuckling his seatbelt and facing Gerard, who watches with a blank face.

Frank mouths the words to the song playing (Crawling out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine), and as the song continues (And it’s all in my head but she’s touching his chest now), he climbs into the backseat, wiggling in next to Gerard. He serenades him, yelling along with the chorus (Jealousy turning saints into the sea). Finally, when the song ends, Frank sets himself in Gerard’s lap, folding his legs over each other and setting both palms on the top knee. He grins at Gerard, and Ray is dying laughing from the front seat.

Gerard just smiles uneasily, because he really appreciates his personal space and Frank’s little butt is very bony. Fortunately, Frank gets off before Gerard has to shove him and slides to the other end of the backseat.

Frank’s quiet for the rest of the ride, but every couple of seconds or so, Gerard will catch him stealing glances over at him, that dumb grin on his face. Whenever Gerard glares at him in return, Frank just smiles bigger, and Gerard ends up letting out an exasperated sigh and turning away in defeat.

When they reach Ray’s house (which happens to be in the middle of nowhere), Frank is hopping all over the place, which Ray explains is normal for him. Gerard studies Frank, who is currently attempting to climb one of Ray’s many trees, and is fascinated by his childlike ambition. It’s almost charming.  

“Frank, we’re heading in!” Ray calls as he opens the front door.

Frank leaps down from a branch and sprints to the door, pushing Ray out of his path and stepping inside the house. “Beat you.”

Ray shakes his head and enters, and Gerard follows.

The trio immediately goes down to the basement, and Ray asks, “Do you want to play video games?”

Gerard nods, and Frank zooms over to the opposite side of the room, plopping himself about a foot in front of the TV and snatching a controller. He opens a nearby mini fridge, taking out a Coke, and slams it shut.

A chuckle escapes from Gerard, and he blushes upon realizing this. Ray must not notice, because he all he does is inform,

“There’s one shitty controller. I’ll use it.”

Gerard and Ray sit behind Frank, and Ray is chosen as Player **1** to make up for having the worst controller.

As Frank sits in front of them, the waistband to his jeans cup out and expand backwards, revealing a large deal of white underpants. Gerard reddens; he feels embarrassed for Frank. He wonders what kind of high schooler still wears tighty whities. He nudges Ray and motions at Frank, and whispers,

“Should I tell him?”

“I’ll tell him,” Ray resolves. He leans forward as if he were going to whisper in Frank’s ear, but instead reaches down and grabs a handful of Frank’s underwear and yanks them upwards.

Frank squeals, and squirms free, shoving Ray in the chest. “Jerk!”

“That’s what you get for wearing tighty whities, dork,” Ray retorts.

Frank pounces on Ray, tackling him. The two wrestle around clumsily, and Gerard sits, fiddling with his controller.

Finally, Ray pins Frank, who struggles beneath him. “Ha!”

Frank looks over at Gerard, insisting,

“Lighten up, Gerard. Wrestle with us, have some fun, be a kid.”

Gerard shakes his head. “I’m okay, actually.”

Ray releases Frank, who instantly springs up to his knees. He crawls over to Gerard and falls onto him, grabbing his wrists and holding them to the floor.

“Let me up,” Gerard groans.

“Not until you loosen up and fight back,” Frank bargains.

“Frank, this is ridiculous, let me get up!” Gerard protests.

Frank shakes his head. “Nope.”

Gerard scoffs, and turns his head over to Ray, begging,

“Ray, help me. Or reason with him.”

Ray crosses his arms across his chest, sitting back. “Frankie actually has a point. You need to learn to relax, Gerard.”

“I’m not going to do it,” Gerard replies.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to remain on the floor,” Frank smirks.

Gerard lets out a whine. He lays there for about a solid minute, no one saying a word. He then blushes as he makes a feeble attempt to move his arms.

“Oh, come on,” Frank laughs. “You can do better than that.”

Gerard begins to writhe beneath Frank, and Frank encourages,

“There you go! Now you’re getting it!”

Gerard finally breaks, and he head butts Frank in the chest, bringing the littler boy on his back. Gerard straddles him, grabbing his forearms and holding them to the ground.

Gerard looms over him, and stares down at him, panting. Frank is sweaty, and breathless, his mouth open as he breathes. Finally, he breaks out into a smile, complimenting,

“Good.”


	3. Realizations That You've Previously Never Considered And Have To Do With Some Of Your Most Intimate Relationships are Terrifying

Gerard’s not used to having friends. It’s… strange. It’s unfamiliar, unprecedented, and unpredictable. For example, when Frank comes to school the next day suggesting a sleepover.

Gerard recoils. “Like, a slumber party?”

Frank scrunches his nose. “Don’t’ say it that way; that makes it sound weird or something.”

“Well, isn’t it kind of weird to begin with?” Gerard reasons.

“Only weird if you make it weird, Jeffery Dahmer,” Ray points out, grinning as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

Gerard turns a bit pink in the cheeks, and asks, “What would we even do?”

Frank bats his lashes and folds his hands effeminately, placing them on his knee. “Well, Gee, we’d start of by braiding Ray’s hair, then we’ll do your nails, we’ll talk about boys, and then finally, we’ll walk around in our panties and slips and have a pillow fight!”

Ray’s laughing, but Gerard manages to hide his giggling. “Very funny, but really, what would we do?”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t plan this shit. Probably play video games, maybe take a dip in Ray’s pool? We could camp outside too, and watch movies and play board games!”

“I don’t know,” Gerard hesitates.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Frank whines.

“I’m openly anti-fun,” Gerard remarks.

“Please!” Frank begs, shaking Gerard’s shoulder. “It’ll be great and you’re a liar you don’t hate fun because you played video games and wrestled with me, remember?”

Gerard rolls his eyes, propping his head up with his fist. He inspects his free hand’s nails, mumbling, “That was a mistake.”

“If you don’t come, I will drag you!” Frank squeaks.

Gerard chuckles. The thought of the one hundred and twelve pound Frank trying to drag a lard ass like himself into a car just strikes him as funny. “Like you’re capable of that.”

Frank smirks, “I pinned you down, remember?”

Gerard blushes again. “S-so?”

Ray groans, “Oh my God, Gerard! Man up, grow a pair, and eat Cheetos and watch Donnie Darko with Frank and I.”

“Fine,” Gerard gives in. “When is it?”

“Starts tomorrow, right after school,” Frank answers smugly, priding himself on the fact that Ray and him could persuade Gerard to go.

“Don’t get too excited, Frank; I still have to see if it’s okay with my mom,” Gerard reminds.

“How old are you, five?” Frank snorts.

“Said the freshman who still wears tighty whities,” Gerard shoots back. Frank turns scarlet, and Gerard smiles at this. “Look, I have to make sure that my younger brother has a ride home and he’s all taken care of before I go anywhere.”

Frank’s eyes widen as he grins like an idiot. “You have siblings?”

“One,” Gerard corrects. “A sibling. Uno hermano.”

“That means… I’m thirsty?” Ray guesses.

Gerard sighs. “Sure, something like that.”

“I wish I had a brother,” Frank grumbles.

“Trust me, it’s not at all to be cracked up about,” Gerard assures.

“You try being an only child!” Frank challenges.

“Oh my God, it’d be so terrible to receive all of the Christmas presents, have a higher income household, and be granted the undivided attention of my parents! Just dreadful!” Gerard mocks.

Frank is quiet, just picks at his salad halfheartedly.

Ray frowns. “That was kind of mean.”

“Sorry,” Gerard utters. He does feel bad; there’s a lingering guilt pulling at his gut. Frank is always so nice to him, and yet he has no problem tearing him down. The worst part is that most of the time, Gerard won’t be able to recognize that he did anything wrong.

Gerard tells his mother that night at dinner,

“Frank and Ray are having a sleepover tomorrow.”

His mother raises an eyebrow. “Boys are? At their age?”

“Yeah,” Gerard responds. “Your point?”

His mother shrugs, scooping some peas onto Gerard’s plate. “I just find it a bit unusual, that’s all.” She sits down, cutting into her roast. She points a fork at Mikey, asking, “Now what do I tell you boys about being unusual?”

Gerard groans as Mikey recites,

“Being unusual is not the equivalent of being bad.”

“Anyways,” Gerard continues, “They’ve invited me.”

His mother stops eating, and places her silverware down. “You’ve… you’ve been invited to a sleepover?”

Gerard nods. “Is that… strange?”

“Well, no offense honey, but I just didn’t know you really had friends,” his mother admits.

Mikey laughs, and their mother shoots him a glare in response, getting him to stop on a dime.

“Me neither,” Gerard agrees. “But they invited me, so do you think Mikey will be able to find a ride after school tomorrow?”

“Sure,” his mother replies. “Mikey, you can always ride home with the Kyle boy down the street.”

Mikey’s nose upturns in disgust at the mere mention of his name. “Mom, I hate that kid. He smells like shit.”

“Michael, watch your mouth,” she scolds.

“Sorry, but it’s the truth,” Mikey persists. “It’s freaking disgusting. He’s gross; I’m not riding home with him again.”

She narrows her eyes, insisting, “You will ride with him, you will be polite, and you will not tell him he stinks.”

Mikey opens his mouth to speak, but she takes the words from his mouth, proceeding,

“You will not ask about his shower routine, imply that something died in his brain, or ask if a farm’s nearby. Understand?”

“Gotcha,” Mikey answers.

“You’re mean, Mikes,” Gerard observes.

“You’re mean, too,” Mikey retorts. “Have you ever heard yourself speak?”

“Hey, shut up! At least I’m not mean to the smelly kid; that’s sooo 1992.”

“Boys!” their mom chides. “Not one more word from either of you, okay? I will not have my children being rude little jerks to each other.”

There’s a pause in the dinner conversation, and finally, Mikey asks, “Does Kyle have like Halitosis or something? Because if that’s the case, I could offer him a breath mint or-”

“Michael,” his mother cuts off. She holds her index finger to her lips, the classic shush sign.

Gerard brings his sleepover backpack to school the next day. Last night; he found it sad that he didn’t really know what to pack. He’s never been to a sleepover that wasn’t with relatives. He ended up bringing a pair of basketball shorts and a shirt to change into after school, a pair of plaid pajama bottoms, a change of plaid shorts and a tee for the next day, and finally, an extra pair of underwear. For non-clothing items he brings his laptop and charger, a few movies, his wallet just in case they decide to go anywhere, his cellphone and charger, a camera, and his Star Wars sleeping bag. He leaves them all in his car once arriving in the school parking lot; he’d be beaten up within seconds of carrying a Star Wars themed sleeping roll, as ridiculous as that is.

The school day is uneventful as usual, and once again, after the final bell, all three of the boys compress themselves into Ray’s tiny car, except this time, Frank joins Gerard in the backseat rather than sitting up front.

“Don’t you want to ride shotgun?” Gerard asks.

Frank shakes his head vehemently. “No; I want to sit by you.”

“What for?” Gerard interrogates warily.

Frank merely giggles, “Well, no _real_ reason, I guess. Just to sit with you, silly.”

Gerard turns his back to the window as usual, but instead of outstretching his feet in front of him, he tucks them beneath him. He lets out a long sigh and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.

“What’s wrong?” Frank worries, eyebrows knitted.

Gerard rubs his eyes and yawns. “Nothing; just tired.”

“Then sleep!” Frank squeaks. He lies against Gerard’s legs, curling up and closing his eyes at his feet.

“You can’t sleep on me!” Gerard protests, kicking his legs around and disrupting Frank’s resting spot.

Frank groans loudly and rolls to the other side of the backseat, grunting throughout the entire journey.

When they get to Ray’s house, the first thing both Frank and Ray want to do is swim in Ray’s pool. It’s really nice; it’s underground and large with a diving board. Gerard realizes that Ray’s parents must be just as, if not more, wealthy than Gerard’s family.

“Shit, I didn’t bring a swim suit!” Gerard realizes.

Frank knits his brows. “Who needs swim trunks?” With that, he strips off his shirt, revealing his bony physique. He kicks off his shoes, pulls his socks off and takes off his pants, leaving him in his grey briefs. He bundles everything up and tosses it in the car, and then runs and cannonballs into the pool.

Ray chuckles and removes his own clothes, and goes flying in after Frank in his red plaid boxers. That leaves Gerard standing, fully clothed, watching the two other boys swim in their skivvies. He sets his backpack down next to the car, and heads over, observing,

“You guys are very open.”

Frank shrugs. “Only weird if you make it weird.”

“Well, I’m not taking off my shirt, or pants,” Gerard decides.

Ray motions for Gerard to come forward, so Gerard tentatively sets his feet in the gutter of the pool as he leans towards Ray.

“What is it?”

Ray grabs Gerard’s ankle and yanks him into the pool, quickly splashing away so Gerard won’t fall on him.

Gerard surfaces, sputtering and wiping his soaked hair from his eyes. Frank’s laughing his little girl giggles, and Ray is guffawing and pointing at Gerard.

Gerard throws his drenched shirt off, and slips out of his pants as well, leaving him naked, spare his black boxer briefs.

“Nice to see you actually loosen up,” Frank claims, doing a backflip beneath the water. He resurfaces smiling, and spits water at Gerard.

Gerard tackles Frank, and the two are a mess of tangled limbs as they fight underwater. Finally, they break through the surface, gasping for air and chuckling.

The three swim for about forty minutes before finally heading inside. Gerard supposes that its times like these that being an only child has its perks; Gerard would not want Ray’s younger brother or sister or especially older brother or sister seeing him in his sopping wet, skin tight underwear.

They all change, but Frank just stays in his underwear until they dry; since he didn’t bring anything else to change into and is “too big downstairs to go commando comfortably”.

Ray guffaws at that, retorting, “Yeah right. You wear briefs all the time; I can tell you don’t have anything, Iero.”

“I do so!” Frank insists. “If you weren’t a pervert, I’d show you to prove it.”

“Wow, you two have officially become drunken college guys,” Gerard notices, stuffing a handful of pretzels into his mouth.

The boys watch Donnie Darko and eat crunchy hot Cheetos, just as was intended. Ray has seen it approximately twenty two times, so his interest is dull. But Frank, who has seen the film about thirty eight times, is totally absorbed into each scene, and perks up whenever his name is said in the film (Donnie, the protagonist, has an imaginary friend named Frank). Gerard watches with a sparked interest; having never seen it before. They watch the Breakfast Club next, followed by Orphan, and then continued by The Dark Knight. Frank falls asleep halfway through the Dark Knight, and Ray was knocked out by the ending of Orphan, leaving only Gerard. He sees these two teens lying next to him, lids heavy and shut, and he regards them almost as strangers, and it’s upsetting.

Gerard’s been hanging out with them for about a week now, and he hardly knows these people, these two boys sprawled out in front of him. All he really knows about Frank is that his laughs are high pitched and he wears a lot of briefs. As for Ray, he merely is aware of the fact that he is practically Frank’s mother. He doesn’t even really know Ray at all; just associates him with Frank. And it makes Gerard feel guilty as Hell. He doesn’t know anything important. He doesn’t know if Frank wakes up in the middle of his night to finish his homework. He’s not sure if Ray has ever wanted to just be gone. He doesn’t know what they want to do with their lives, what they think of the world, or if they even want to be a part of it.

Gerard decides he’ll find out this information, and carry it around with him as though it were his dying mother’s last words. He wants to know these people; not what they look like, what shows they like, or how they dress. He wants to dissect them, to dig around inside of them and see what he can find.

And the way to do it? More sleepovers. But not like this. Instead of movies, they need late night discussions, hearts to hearts. He wants to talk to them about the flaws of the U.S. education system at three a.m. in the morning. He wants to know if they ever feel sorry for not the Columbine victims, but the shooters.

Looking at Frank, he realizes, he wants to know if Frank ever wishes that he had someone to wake up next to every morning. And moreover, if that someone could be him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I'll try to update soon!
> 
> Vote for me here: http://poll.pollcode.com/27276996 and I'll write you a fanfic or if you have tumblr I can do a blog rate or selfie reblog!


	4. Bullying Is Fucked Up As It Can Ruin A Kid's Self-Esteem And Someday That Kid Just May Snap And Shove Back

That next day at school, Gerard arrives to once again find Frank being picked on. It’s happening in the freshman corridor, and despite the fact that the bullying is blatant as hell, no one is doing anything but watching from the corner of their eye.

As far as Gerard can tell, it’s the same boys that had been tossing Frank’s backpack around just yesterday morning. Two of the boys are rooting through Frank’s backpack, and one is pinning his back to a locker.

Frank is wiggling beneath the boy’s arms, protesting, “Don’t look in there!”

The biggest boy pulls a small, pleather bound journal from Frank’s bag. He opens it, reading the cover page, and grins maliciously. He waves it around over Frank’s head, and Frank blushes and his eyes visibly widen.

“You have a diary, faggot?” he smirks. He opens the book, flipping through the pages. He stops on a page in the middle of the journal, clearing his throat and reading loudly,

“ ‘I’m really excited to go to this new school. Middle school was Hell, so maybe high school will be better.’ “ The boy pauses and raises an eyebrow at Frank, whose face is crimson and head bowed. “Why was junior high so bad, Frankie?”

Frank peers up at the boy, dark bangs hanging in his hazel eyes. “Like I’m telling you.”

The boy acts offended. “Oh? Why not? We’re among friends here.”

“Fuck you,” Frank growls.

“You seem to be a little hostile there,” he mutters. He reopens the diary, going through it some more. Once again, he announces, “ ‘I really think that I may meet my dream guy.’ “ He tosses the diary to the floor and mockingly clutches a hand to his heart. “That’s just so sweet!”

“You’re actually gay?” the teen holding him snorts. “Fucking freak!”

“You know what gay dudes like? Having things shoved up their ass. Why don’t we do that for Iero?” another kid suggests.

“Turn him around,” one orders.

The boy pinning Frank flips him over, holding him by the back of his neck firmly and slamming him once against the locker. He presses Frank’s stomach harshly against the metal.

The biggest boy stands to the side of Frank, and reaches down the back of his jeans, grabbing the waistband to his solid white briefs. He pulls upwards, and Frank cries out. He only tugs harder, and Frank’s heels are lifted from the floor.

Most of the kids in the hallway begin laughing, and one girl even begins to film the bullying on her phone.

At that point, Gerard snaps. He realizes subconsciously that he should’ve been pushed to a breaking point how long ago, but he doesn’t have time to worry or feel bad about that at the moment. All he knows is that these guys are being serious assholes, and by the looks of it, no one else is willing to stop them.

Gerard marches over, tearing the aggressor away from Frank. He stomps on the center of the boy’s foot with his heel, and shoves him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck you! Why don’t you pick on somebody your size?”

He regains his balance, and responds calmly, “Because that would be no fun.” He steps forwards, but Gerard refuses to back down. The much larger kid pushes Gerard back with his chest each step, and warns, “You just made a big mistake, creep.”

The other two boys release Frank; Gerard is now the top priority. Gerard stands his ground; and for this he is punched in the stomach.

He groans, clutching his belly, and two of the boys take advantage of the moment by seizing Gerard’s arms and holding them behind his back. The remaining boy holds onto Gerard’s shoulder as he delivers another blow to the stomach, knocking the wind out of Gerard completely.

Gerard begins to wheeze, and before he can catch his breath, he is kneed in the crotch. He lets out a string of clotted coughs as his knees buckle inwards. He falls, and the boys then let go of him, leaving him to hit the floor.

They all move past Gerard with general ease, one of them kicking him. Gerard wraps into a fetal position, blinking back the tears forming in his eyes.

Frank kneels by Gerard, stammering, “I-I’m so sorry. Really, G-Gerard. I- I never meant for this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gerard promises, still trying to regain his breath.

Frank slowly helps his friend to his feet, insisting, “Yes, it is. If I would’ve just stood up for myself instead of standing around like a little bitch-”

“Don’t say that,” Gerard interrupts. “Trust me, fighting is easy. But fighting back is harder. I know from experience.”

Frank gives a broken, try-hard smile, and it brings an aching, tugging pain to Gerard’s chest. To see this completely happy, bubbly, sweet kid offering a grin he can’t force himself to give… it’s heart shattering.

“Well, thanks for helping me out,” Frank proceeds. “I appreciate it, really.”

“I know you do,” Gerard responds. He gazes at Frank, staring into his crush’s beautiful hazel-auburn eyes. It’s strange for Gerard to be imitating the look. When Frank returns the glance, Gerard doesn’t break his line of vision, just stares right back with a burning intensity he hopes that Frank can read.

The bell rings, snapping Gerard out of his nirvana. As the two walk to Geometry together, Gerard finds the courage to ask,

“So… you’re gay?”

Frank blushes, and shakes his head. “Not quite. I’m pansexual, but I tend to lean towards guys.”

“I’m gay,” Gerard informs. “I can kind of relate.”

There’s a pause, and Gerard questions,

“Are you dating anybody?”

Frank again shakes his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “If I ever dated a guy, or even someone nonbinary or genderfluid…” Frank’s hands withdraw from his pockets and clutch his backpack straps instead. “My parents would kill me.”

“Like, you don’t mean-” Gerard begins.

“I’m pretty positive that they would actually beat me,” Frank answers, reading Gerard’s thoughts. “So I’m just keeping the whole thing under wraps until I graduate.”

“Ray doesn’t know you’re pansexual?”

“Nope,” Frank replies. “No one does. But because of those jerks, I’m sure everyone in this Goddamned school will be thinking I’m gay.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard comforts. “My mom doesn’t know I’m gay, but I doubt that she’d mind.”

“Are you ever going to tell her?”

Gerard shrugs. “Dunno. It’s kind of trivial information, at least in my book. I’d just hate to make a big scene out of the whole thing when it’s not a huge deal, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Frank agrees. “Which is why I’m never telling. My parents… they can go fuck themselves, as far as I’m concerned. If they knew I was pansexual, they wouldn’t love me anymore. So I have to wait till after high school to be myself, that’s when I can cut my ties with them if I need to.”

Gerard doesn’t really know what to say. He places a hand across Frank’s back, on his furthest shoulder. He can’t really explain why he does it, but at the moment, it just seems like the right thing to do.

During the drive to Ray’s house that afternoon, Gerard blurts,

“Frank’s being bullied.”

Frank glares at Gerard in betrayal and shock, his jaw agape.

“He has a right to know; he’s your best friend,” Gerard points out. He does feel guilty for telling Ray for only a second, because Gerard knows that the only way Frank’s ever going to be safe is if he tells somebody.

“Trouble has always had a way of finding Frank,” Ray admits. “How you holding up this time?”

Frank’s eyes begin to water, and he turns his head sharply to the window to hide this. “Fine. Just fine.”

The tears are hidden in his eyes, but not in his voice.

“Frank, please don’t get upset,” Ray begs. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Frank cries. “Those guys hate me, everyone laughs at me, I’m a fucking loser and I hate it!”

Frank begins to sob so hard that his body convulses, and he starts to hyperventilate as well. Ray pulls over abruptly, hugging Frank and rubbing his friend’s back.

“Deep breaths, okay?” Ray coaxes. “Breathe really deep. It’s okay; everything’s fine. Gerard and I care about you, and we’re here till the end, isn’t that right, Gerard?”  
All Gerard can think about is that statements haunting similarities to a contract. This is the one contract that the boy afraid of commitments is willing to sign. “Yeah. We’re here for you.”

“I’m just…” Frank sobs. “I’m tired of being picked on. I’m tired of being on my best behavior for kids that hate me!”

Ray squeezes Frank. “What do you want us to do?”

“Help me be normal!” Frank pleads. “I’m tired. I’m tired of it all!”

“Help you… be normal?” Ray inquires.

“Yeah. How can I keep them away?” Frank asks. “I’ll do anything.”

“Well… I can teach you one thing, Frank,” Gerard offers from the back seat.

“What’s that?” Frank whimpers.

“How to fight,” Gerard replies.

“You can’t be serious!” Ray scoffs.

“The way I see it; these boys can really hurt Frank; and he has to be able to protect himself!” Gerard reasons. “Frank, do you want to be able to beat these guys?”

Frank is quiet. After a solid minute or so of silence, he nods. “Yes.”

“Good,” Gerard says. “We’ll start as soon as we get to Ray’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon. 
> 
> Please vote for me here: http://poll.pollcode.com/27276996, and I'll write a custom fanfiction for you or if you have a tumblr do a blog rate+ a selfie reblog!


	5. An Intense Workout That Would Be A Montage In A Movie and The Seeds of Revenge

As soon as the trio arrives at Ray’s house, Gerard struts to the center of the front yard, planting his white Converses to the dirt. He motions for Frank to come over, which the boy does, tentatively so. Ray hangs back and watches from where he is perched on the hood of his car, his scratched copy of Blunderbuss blaring and granting the occasional stutter of the music.

“What?” Frank asks. “What are you doing?”

“Hit me,” Gerard orders.

“What?”

“Hit me,” Gerard reiterates. “Hard.”

“I don’t see the point of this,” Frank remarks.

“I want you to show me what you’ve got. Let me see what I’m working with. Hit me as hard as you can,” Gerard persists.

“Maybe we should go inside,” Ray suggests uneasily. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“No one’s going to be getting hurt!” Gerard calls. “Frankie can’t hit hard enough.”

“Why are you doing this?” Frank sighs, growing exasperated with Gerard.

“Because,” Gerard begins, taking his sweet time answering his friend. “I need to know that you’re willing to do what it takes to stand up for yourself.”

Frank scoffs, “I’ll hit them, but not you.”

“Okay,” Gerard says. He shoves Frank, asking, “How about now?”

Frank’s brows knit. “Quit it.”

“Quit it,” Gerard repeats, shoving Frank harder.

“Gerard, stop,” Frank warns. “I’m done with this.” Frank begins to depart, but Gerard grabs him by the back of his collar, yanking him back.

“No. You’re going to hit me, Frankie.”

Ray titters nervously, “Okay, that-that’s enough for now.”

“Right here,” Gerard instructs, tapping his jaw. “Actually, surprise me.”

“I’m not going to hit you,” Frank emphasizes.

Gerard hangs his head, and then seizes Frank, kneeing him in the stomach.

Frank doubles over, coughing and gagging. He peers up at Gerard, who is grinning. Frank gives a mighty swing, and his fist makes solid contact with Gerard’s jawline.

Gerard stumbles backwards, but just smiles even bigger. “Very good.” He launches himself onto Frank, bringing the smaller boy to the ground with ease.

The two roll around in the dirt, trapped in a blind struggle for dominance. Gerard finally ends up on top of Frank, pinning him to the grass.

“That’s all we’re going to do today,” Gerard pants, and he releases Frank, even helping him up. The two walk over to Ray, and Gerard drapes an arm over Frank’s shoulder.

“What the fuck was that?” Ray demands. “You… you guys just hit each other.”

Gerard looks at Frank and shrugs. “Best way to get stronger. Right Frankie?”

Frank nods, and Ray lets out another sigh.

“Toro, do you want to take us to the weight room?” Gerard asks.

“What for?” Ray questions.

“Um, to lift weights,” Gerard answers frankly.

“Shoot, we have weights here,” Ray informs. “You can borrow some sweats if you want.”

Ray sits afar from Gerard and Frank once again. Frank strips off his shirt, leaving him in his basketball shorts and Vans. He lay on the bench, and Gerard sets the weights onto either end of the bar. With one hand, he lifts the weight, then dropping the pressure onto Frank, who buckles beneath the bar.

“Too much,” Frank wheezes. His face reddens with effort as he makes an attempt to do a rep, upper arms trembling. The bar rises from his chest about an inch before falling again.

“Girl, this is light,” Gerard scolds. “You should be able to lift this.”

“I can’t,” Frank insists, trying again. The bar again lifts for just a second before crashing back onto him.

“Don’t say that,” Gerard orders. “Just lift it. Breathe, and concentrate only on the task in front of you.”

For once, Frank listens to Gerard. He blocks out all of his own complaints and pessimism, and gives one last try at giving the bar a pump.

And it doesn’t even leave his chest this time. “I physically can’t, Gerard.”

Gerard sighs dramatically, lifting the bar with one hand and setting it back onto its stand. Frank exhales sharply, and it feels great to actually be able to breathe normally.

“That was pathetic, Frankie,” Gerard admits.

“Hey, shut up!” Frank squeaks. “At least I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough,” Gerard insists. “Come on. We’re going to use the punching bag.”

Ray cuts in from the floor, “Gerard, I think you may be pushing him too hard.”

Gerard looks at Frank, whose face is scarlet and brow has accumulated a farm of sweat. He pulls Frank into a loose headlock, questioning, “You can handle it, can’t you Frankie?”

“Y-yeah,” Frank agrees. Gerard ruffles his friend’s hair and releases him, smacking Frank’s butt. “Good boy.”

They continue to do more grueling exercise. After Frank’s thirtieth pushup, he stops.

“What?” Gerard barks.

“Let’s see you do some,” Frank challenges. “I’m doing all the work, and you’re just standing there.”

Gerard drops to his knees, getting into his pushup form. He easily pumps out forty pushups in under a minute, and when he stands again, his face isn’t even pink. “There. Now you.”

Frank groans and goes back to his pushups, making a mental note that Gerard is completely capable of doing every assignment he sets for Frank.

The grueling workout comes to an end after about two hours, and Frank’s legs are tight, metal rods (Gerard had him run), and his arms are like jelly. He’s completely sore as he walks to Ray’s car, slipping on his shirt.

“How was it?” Ray asks. “That hurt, to watch him do that to you.”

Frank shrugs. “It wasn’t so bad. I mean, yeah it sucked, but… it feels kind of good, y’know? All of this self-improvement shit. I don’t know what the appeal is.”

Ray starts up the car, and admonishes, “If you don’t think you can handle this, you can always just report the kids bullying you rather than fighting them.”

Frank’s eyebrows perk up. “Fight? Who said I was going to fight them?”

“Isn’t that the point of this whole regimen?” Ray asks. “To be able to fight them and beat them?”

“For me, it’s just about being able to protect myself,” Frank replies. “I never really want to fight them, unless I have to. In that case, if I’m ready, I will.”

“Well, I’m just saying, think this through on what you think is the best move to make before going through this little Rocky deal you have going on with Gerard. Okay? Just… sleep on it,” Ray advises.

“Alright,” Frank responds. “I’ll… I’ll sleep on it.”

Frank goes home, showers, and goes straight to bed, it seems. He’s sore everywhere; his calves, arms, thighs, shoulders, back, everywhere. He moans out in slight pain as he lowers himself onto his mattress, and limits his rolling around to assure that he doesn’t cause himself more pain than necessary.

But still, even with his aching limbs, he feels ecstatic, and already he’s looking forward to tomorrow’s workout. And he knows exactly what he’s going to do about the boy’s picking on him day by day. When they try to touch him to do whatever torture they have in mind in a few months, Frank will unleash all of the skills Gerard will have taught him. And everyone in the hallway will feel his rage, and his hurt and they will know one thing, and that one thing will be that Frank Iero is not a kid to mess with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!
> 
> My Tumblr: www.varsity-frank.tumblr.com


	6. An Extreme Display of Affection Through The Medium of Words That Normally Wouldn't Develop So Quickly But In This Case Did

Again, Frank is bullied at school the very next day. And this time, Gerard isn’t there to help him.

They beat him, took his wallet (which was carrying the precious loot of fifteen dollars, and had dumped the contents of his backpack, kicking them around the vacant bathroom.

Oh, and after such a semi-sociopathic yet somewhat motivational internal rant just the other night. What a shame.

Frank tells Gerard, after school, and boy, is he pissed. Frank had told Gerard in the freshman corridor, so there were plenty of lockers for Gerard to angrily slam. He only threw his own shut, pacing about the hall like a tiger confined to a cage.

“It’s okay; really,” Frank insists. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not sure what you’re definition of ‘okay’ is, Frank, but this doesn’t fall under my personal understanding of the word,” Gerard fumes, running a hand roughly through his black locks.

“No, I’m fine,” Frank persists. “I’m used to it.”

Frank only realizes how pathetic that sounds after the words come out of his mouth. He expects Gerard to tell him to stand up for himself, to not take bullshit, but he does something very different.

Gerard storms over, and instead of smacking Frank, he wraps him in a giant bear hug, squeezing him. He rubs his back, coaxing,

“Don’t be. Don’t ever be used to being treated like dirt. Don’t settle for what you don’t deserve. They demand the best from you, so you demand their best from them.”

Frank nods, and he clutches onto the back of Gerard’s shirt. Suddenly, Gerard pushes Frank away gently, which is a definite signal that he wants to end the hug. So Frank backs off, even though he’d be not only content but in fact ecstatic  

 at staying in Gerard’s arms for the remainder of his years.

Gerard spits,

“Do you know what? I’ll kick their asses for you.”

“Gerard, don’t do that,” Frank pleads.

“No, I’m happy to do it for you. And you’re in no position to fight yet. Just because we’re working out doesn’t mean that they’re going to stop and let you prepare yourself. NO, they’re just going to keep pushing, and pushing. I’d hate for you to get hurt, Frankie, you have no idea how badly that’d fuck me up. I have to get these guys to stay the fuck away from you, and I have to do it now.”

“No, it’s really not that important,” Frank insists.

“You have a black eye, Frank,” Gerard points out flatly.

“Do I?” Frank asks, whipping out his phone and using the front camera as a mirror. “Oh, look at that. I do.”

Gerard is so upset by Frank’s minor reaction that he can’t find his words for a moment. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, no,” Frank admits.

“Then get pissed!” Gerard orders. “I want to see you be angry about these assholes that are ruining your childhood, _your_ life!”

“That’s a little dramatic,” Frank responds. “They’re not ruining my life.”

“But they are!” Gerard continues. “Frank, you’re scared to go to school, aren’t you? You can’t feel safe or welcome at the single place it should be guaranteed, and that breaks my fucking heart.”

Tears well in Gerard’s eyes, and Frank begs,

“Gerard, please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Gerard chokes out. “I just have something in my eye. Like you know, a hair, or a brick.”

Frank frowns sadly, and Gerard wipes his eyes, proceeding,

“But don’t worry about me right now, it’s whatever. In fact, Frank, I’m going to find these assholes, right now, and I’m going to fucking make them feel sorry for ever treating you any less than what you deserve.”

“Gerard, really,” Frank begs. “I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“What makes you think I’d get hurt?” Gerard demands.

Frank can’t help but smirk at Gerard’s blatant over confidence. “Three boys, Gerard. Three of them. Not to mention, two of them are two years above you.”

“I don’t care. I just want to show them that they can’t get away with treating you like that,” Gerard says.

Frank exhales sharply, then asking quietly, “Well, what if they beat you up? Then that doesn’t prove anything; that just makes you their punching bag, too.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Gerard replies.

“Gerard, I’m touched. I really am,” Frank assures. “But just because you’re ready and willing to possibly get seriously hurt for me doesn’t meant that I am. Do you really want to emotionally wreck me more than those ass wipes ever could?”

Gerard sighs, confessing, “No. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You know that. But what are we supposed to do? Tell me, because I’m at the end of my ropes.”

Frank drops to his knees, taking off his backpack. He begins burrowing through it, finally pulling out a phone. He taps the smart phone, telling,

“This thing is what we’re going to do.”

“A phone? Tell me, Frankie, how in the fuck is that supposed to help?” Gerard demands.

Frank smirks, “It has a voice recorder.”

“So, what you’ve been recording it?”

Frank nods.

“And what exactly do you intend to do with the audio?” Gerard questions.

Frank shrugs. “I was thinking I was going to give it to the principal.”

Gerard scoffs, “Frank, come on. You know that the principal won’t do shit. You’ve been through this enough to know that.”

Frank’s brows knit, and he becomes inexplicably angry as he retorts, “You don’t know that!”

“But I do,” Gerard responds calmly. “It doesn’t matter what proof you have; the school is its own judicial system, and they’ll do whatever they have to do to keep from looking bad, even if it means sweeping bullying under the rug.”

Tears begin to build up in Frank’s eyes, and an indelible lump rises in his throat as he mutters, “I was hoping maybe it’d be different.”

Gerard frowns, melancholy in his eyes. “Frankie, I’m sorry. But this school isn’t any better than the next, and it sucks, and I know that. But that just means that we have to take matters into our own hands.”

“I don’t want to fight them,” Frank whimpers. The tears start to fall in fat clusters down his cheeks. They collect on his lashes and roll off, dropping onto his face slowly. “I’m not strong enough.”

“Listen to me,” Gerard coaxes. “You are. You are so much stronger and better than any of those assholes. You can beat them, especially with my help, and maybe even Ray’s. We can do this, Frank. It’s the only way they’ll leave you alone. Do you want evil to continue, or do you want to teach these jerks a lesson, and not only liberate yourself, but also any future kids they even _consider_ laying a hand on. What do you say?”

“I say good,” Frank whispers. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve, and rubs the water off of his face with the arm. “So, when are we going to do this?”

“There’s a party they’re going to be at next Friday,” Gerard informs. “Until then, we can continue to work out, if you want to.”

Frank nods. “Sounds good.”

“And Frank,” Gerard adds. “Just so you know, I have the motivation to kill those guys. And do you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because they fucking hurt my best friend and they made him cry,” Gerard answers. “And I will defend you to my fucking death, I would die for you. So I am certainly willing to perhaps get my ass kicked around a little in order to protect you. I love you like a brother, Frank, don’t you ever forget that.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Frank admits. “You just put into words what I never could.”

“Then don’t say anything,” Gerard responds. “And let’s go over to Toro’s house and lift some weights.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos behind if you enjoyed it!
> 
> My Tumblr: www.varsity-frank.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7: Another Chapter That's Entirely Made Out Of A Single Long Ass Scene

Over the course of the next week, the boys bully Frank more aggressively than ever.

Once, on his way to class, Gerard spots the three boys leaving the bathroom, looking around cautiously yet failing to spot Gerard. Gerard dashes into the bathroom, to see Frank kick open a stall from the inside, emerging from within it with his dark hair sopping wet and clinging to his forehead and cheeks.

Gerard offers a broken smile, reminding,

“This will all be over after this week.”

Frank exhales sharply, grumbling, “Well I sure wish Friday would come sooner.”

Frank ends up hanging out with Ray at Gerard’s house Thursday, just one day until the fight. They’re discussing the terms; who will get who, what strikes to perform, and what not to do, when there’s a loud sneeze just outside of Gerard’s door.

Gerard gives a dramatic sigh, calling out, “Mikes, we heard you. Come in.”

Gerard’s younger brother, a lanky twelve year old with thick glasses, shuffles in, closing the door quietly behind him.

“How much did you hear?” Gerard demands.

“All of it,” Mikey answers.

“I swear to God, if you tell Mom, I am going to kill you,” Gerard threatens.

“I won’t tell,” Mikey promises, extending his pinky finger. As Gerard shakes it, Mikey continues, “I just want to know why you’re fighting them.”

Gerard narrows his eyes, untrusting. “It’s none of your damn business.”

“You can tell me,” Mikey assures. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Bullshit!” Gerard scoffs. “You’re just a kid, you’ll go and tell Pete or some other temporary friend as soon as you’re told!”

Mikey clenches his fists, barking, “Listen, Pete and I aren’t even friends anymore!”

“What- what happened?” Gerard asks. Pete’s been Mikey’s best friend since the first grade.

“I tried to kiss him, and he hates me for it! I’m gay and the whole school knows, and I’ve been depressed about it for years! I’ve been through shit beyond my years, so don’t dish out that “I’m just a kid shit” because it’s not fucking true because my childhood came and went a long time ago!” Mikey cries, tears welling in his eyes.

Gerard is speechless for about a minute. Frank sits, staring at the floor, and Ray twiddles his thumbs. Finally, Gerard manages to mumble, “Mikes…”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more to your younger brother than you thought! You were just too self-absorbed to notice! And if after learning this, you still think I’m ‘just a kid’, then you can go fuck yourself!” Mikey cuts in. He starts to sob, putting his fists to his forehead and hitting himself.

“Mikey, don’t do that,” Gerard comforts. “Sit down, it’s okay.”

Mikey sits on the end of Gerard’s bed, and Gerard hugs his younger sibling. Gerard turns to Frank, questioning,

“Is it okay with you if I tell him?”

“Yeah,” Frank replies softly, eyes still fixed to the floor.

Gerard starts, “Look, Mikes, I know that you’re not as shallow as I thought, but still, you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”  
Mikey nods, wiping his eyes with his forearm. “I promise.”

“Frank’s been getting bullied,” Gerard confides. “And these kids just won’t leave him alone. So, we’re just going to fight with them so they’ll stop.”

Mikey’s quiet, and for a moment all three of the older boys are afraid that he’s contemplating whether or not he’s going to tell someone. Mikey’s maturity is underestimated, because all he does is ask,

“Are you sure that this is the best way to go about it?”

“What do you mean?” Ray urges.

“Well, we’re learning about Gandhi. Do you think that if they started picking on Frank in public, like at school, and he just stood there and took it, that they would eventually stop, someone would help, or that a teacher would see?” Mikey suggests.

Gerard shakes his head. “No dice, little bro. You see, when you don’t fight back, it doesn’t make the aggressors want to stop. It just leaves you defenseless.”

“What about someone helping or a teacher noticing?” Mikey retorts.

Frank responds, “I was given a wedgie in that hallway. No one helped; all of the kids just stood there and laughed, and no teachers seemed to care enough to poke their heads out of their rooms for two seconds to assess the situation.”

“So… so you’re going to fight them?” Mikey says in a small voice.

“Mikey, we’re doing the right thing here,” Gerard informs.

“Well, I know but…” Mikey hesitates. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Gerard, or any of your friends, for that matter.”

“We won’t get hurt,” Gerard remarks. “we’ll be fine; don’t worry about us.”

“Can I help?” Mikey offers.

“Nooooo,” Gerard groans. “Mikes, you’re twelve. One of these guys is seventeen, and I don’t think he’d show any remorse after beating our ass to the ground.”

“Then what can I do?!” Mikey responds angrily.

“Nothing!” Gerard barks. “just stay home and keep your mouth shut!”

Mikey scowls, sauntering out of the room gradually. He slams the door, and Ray whispers,

“You got kind of mean there. He just wanted to help,”

“I know,” Gerard sighs, rubbing his temples “I can’t take it. It’s just been a shit week and this is a shit situation and I’m so done with dealing with shit.”

“You think I’m not?!” Frank shouts. “I got my head stuck in a fucking toilet the other day, and you’re complaining about how you can’t take anymore.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Gerard snaps.

Frank looks hurt, and he folds his arms, brows furrowed. Oh shit, not only is he hurt, but he’s something Gerard’s never seen Frank be before. Frank Anthony Iero is _pissed._

“Frank, come on,” Gerard begs. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

Frank remains pouting, so Gerard adds,

“And I suppose that it was rude to say that I couldn’t take anymore when you’re the one being bullied. I’m sorry.”

Frank uncrosses his arms, and wrings his hands instead. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it like that. I’m on edge, too.”

“So who’s ready to kick their asses tomorrow so there’s no more outbursts like that?” Ray cheers.

Frank laughs, and Gerard chuckles himself. “Yeah, I guess I am, Toro.”

“Oh, I definitely am!” Frank chirps. “I am so ready to get these kids to fucking stay away from me!”

“Has anyone considered the possibility that it won’t work?” Gerard realizes.

They’re quiet for a long time, and finally, Frank says,

“I guess that failure was never an option.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! I should be updating soon!


	8. Chapter 8: Violence Is A Terrible Thing But May Be Necessary When Provoked (Although No One Should Ever Be Pushed To The Point of Retaliation) And If You Disagree Then Disregard This Chapter

All throughout the next school day, it seems that the only thing that Frank can talk or think about is the confrontation that’s going to occur after school. Gerard almost has to tell him to shut up, but then reminds himself that this is not just a fight for Frank, but that it is liberation. Gerard supposes that it’s understandable for him to be so excited.

Gerard meets Frank at his locker after school, and his usually happy friend looks livid. Not only that, but there’s a patch of dirt on his neck and small scratches on his jawbone. Gerard is quick to realize that something must’ve happened between Frank and his tormentors.

“What happened?” Ray asks, appearing suddenly beside Gerard, and making the older boy jump in surprise.

“My P.E. teacher decided to let us have a free period outside,” Frank explains. “So those assholes decided to play what they called ‘Smear the Queer’.”

“That’s so not right,” Gerard sighs.

Ray furrows his brow, beginning, “About that. Frank, I’ve been hearing from… well, everywhere, that you’re gay. And I’m not going to care, but I just want to know if it’s true.”

Frank’s eyes dart around the hallway before he answers, “I’m pansexual, actually, I just tend to prefer guys.”

“Do you like anyone?” Ray asks, smiling.

Frank blushes, eyes flicking over to Gerard subtly. “Yeah.”

“Who is it?” Ray questions. “Can you tell me?”

“Not really,” Frank mumbles. “He has… black hair and green eyes, and he’s really sweet.”

Gerard’s interest is pricked, and he gives Frank a look, but the boy refuses to make eye contact with him.

“Good luck, Frankie,” Ray wishes. “Make sure you tell him soon, kiddo.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Frank mutters, tonguing his lip ring nervously.

“Let’s go,” Ray orders, heading down the stairs. Gerard and Frank follow closely behind, and they all drive to Gerard’s house, where they really can’t do anything, not even eat or watch movies or play video games, because they’re all anticipating the fight, even though it’s not due for at least four hours.

Before the boys know it, it’s about time to leave to go fight. They find themselves primping and priming in the mirror, and Gerard catches,

“Hey, Frank! Take your piercings out.”

“Thanks,” Frank slurs, folding his lip to remove the ring.

“And these guys seem extremely fond of shoving your underwear up your ass, so I suggest that you A. Not wear any underwear, or B. Wear a belt, and a good one,” Gerard suggests.

Frank blushes, murmuring, “I think I’ll wear underwear.”

“I wouldn’t,” Ray advises. He turns his back to the boys, and without much of a warning, pulls down his pants, and then removes his boxers, balling them up. He slides back into his jeans, and places his underwear into his backpack. “Doesn’t hurt to be safe.”

Frank scrunches his face. “Won’t your balls like bounce around and stuff?”

Ray shrugs. “I don’t know. I have pretty small balls, personally. But my dick is decently sized-”

Gerard interrupts, “If you could refrain from talking about the size and shape of your genitalia?”

Ray laughs, and asks,

“Gerard, you wearing underwear or what?”

“Well I don’t really have to worry about the whole thing about them moving around,” Gerard admits. With that, he too slips out of his shorts, pulling off a pair of Batman boxer briefs, which he proceeds to toss into the hamper. He steps back into his shorts and gazes at Frank expectantly.

Frank grumbles, “Well, I’m not going to be the only guy wearing underwear.” He asks Gerard, “Where’s the bathroom?”

Gerard raises an eyebrow. “Why so bashful, Frankie?”

Frank’s cheeks flush, and he can feel the heat rise throughout his face. “N-no real reason.”

“Then change in here,” Gerard remarks, sitting back on his bed.

Ray sits down next to Gerard, agreeing,

“Yeah, I don’t see what the big deal is. We’re all boys here.”

Frank blushes even more as he unbuttons his jeans, tugging them slowly to his ankles. His face burns bright red as he undoes the snaps to his pink garters, which were hooked onto the legs of his pink, lace panties with hearts. He unfastens the bottom to the garters as well, which were attached to his pale pink thigh socks. Gerard scrambles to look away, even more embarrassed than Frank, whilst Ray doesn’t bother to turn his cheek, but watches Frank, utterly fascinated by his friend’s extensive lingerie. Frank squirms back into his jeans, pantieless, and Ray can’t help but remark,

“Frank, I must say, you certainly upgraded from the tighty whities.”

“SHUT UP,” Frank growls.

“I think you look cute, but it’s whatever,” Gerard mumbles from his seat next to Ray. “I’m gay, I mean, I know what guys look good in.”

“Thanks,” Frank replies. Ray is staring at the heap of lingerie balled up in Frank’s hands, and Frank barks, “Are we going to do this or what?”

“Sure,” Ray answers, rising. Gerard stands too, and all of the boys head out to the car.

On their way out to the car, the trio runs into no one but Gerard’s younger brother, who plants himself in their path, stating,

“You can’t go. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Mikes, move,” Gerard sighs.

“No,” Mikey responds, completely blocking their route.

Gerard gives another sigh and scoops Mikey up, swinging the small boy over his shoulder. Mikey pounds on Gerard’s back to be put down, and Gerard finally drops him off on the couch, warning,

“Remember, don’t tell mom, or I will fucking end you, okay?”

“Fine!” Mikey snaps, crossing his arms.

“Good,” Gerard mutters, and he finally makes his way out the door to Ray’s car.

The party’s in the middle of nowhere, so there’s a lot of Ray searching in the depths of his mind and Frank picking random ones when it comes with which road to take.

A drive that should’ve been ten minutes was easily twenty, but this is trivial, since they arrive at the house when the party appears to be in full swing.

They amble through the house, searching for the three guys, but to no avail. They finally found them after about ten minutes in the backyard.

Ray whispers, “Fuck, I can’t do this shit.”

“You’re fine,” Gerard assures, voice lowered.

“We’re going to fucking die,” Ray hisses. “Two of them are juniors, for Christ’s sake.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” Gerard insists. “Get a grip.”

One of the other boys spots the trio, and guffaws, pointing,

“Look, the Three Muskequeers showed up!”

The other two laugh, and one demands,

“Iero? You here to find some dick or what?”

“Fuck you!” Frank yells.

The boys all stand, and slowly approach Frank, Gerard and Ray.

“What did you say, you little puissant?” one spits.

“Fuck you, I’m finished with dealing with your shit,” Frank replies.

“Oh?” a boy responds. He approaches Frank, and presses his index finger into the center of Frank’s chest. “And who said that you decide when you’ve had enough?”

Frank swings at the boy, who manages to dodge it. He grins and kicks Frank in the shin, the firm tip of his shoe making solid contact with Frank’s bone. He then brings his foot to Frank’s crotch, and Frank drops like a rock. The other boys hurry over, one attacking Ray, and two kicking Frank’s huddled figure.

Gerard rushes over to where Frank is being hit, and he is shoved away from Frank. He launches himself over Frank and at one of the boys, bringing him to the ground.

And that’s the last thing Gerard remembers clearly. He remembers small details of the fight; his hair being pulled, and the crunch of that kid’s ankle when Gerard tackled him.

The boy burst out screaming, and all of the boys from both sides froze, transfixed in fright. Finally Gerard got up, and helped Frank to his feet.

Gerard initially felt terrible. He’d just meant to get the kid to leave Frank alone, not shatter his ankle. But something dark, some sort of chemical for revenge manifested in Gerard, because he kneeled next to the crying boy and spat,

“Fuck with my friends again and I’ll send you right back to the hospital, bitch.”

Gerard looks from Frank to Ray, and mutters,

“Let’s go.”

The other two bullies actually make a path for Ray, Frank, and Gerard, likely not wanting to make any trouble with any of them now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please comment, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!


	9. Of Course This Whole Bullying Situation Isn't Resolved Yet; It's The Central Source Of Conflict to the Story, You Big Goof!

The fateful day of Frank’s return to school, constantly in the presence of his former tormentors, comes all too quickly. None of the boys are prepared for how those kids will react, and as a precaution, they try their hardest to text Frank bihourly to make sure that he’s okay. Frank admits at lunchtime,

“I feel like a fucking three year old.”

Gerard frowns, and Ray comforts,

“Look, it’s just for today, just to make sure that they don’t try anything. They haven’t, and they won’t. After today, it’s over.”

Except it wasn’t over. A story has to have conflict, remember? When Frank went to his locker after 6th period, he found that all of his text books had been taken, and in there lay but a single piece of paper. He snatched the sheet angrily, and read it, to see it had written on it in red ink,

“Fucking fight us like a man, not with your friend. Then you’ll get your books back.”

Frank shows the note to Gerard, who lets out a sharp exhale. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck is right!” Frank agrees. “I’m fucking screwed; my math teacher hates me as it is, imagine what’ll happen when I show up for weeks with no book!”

“They want to fight you?” Gerard asks. “That’s not fair; it’s three against one.”

Frank shrugs. “I don’t have another option, really.”

“Well,” Gerard hesitates. “Can’t you just… tell on them?”

Frank raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one who said that it wouldn’t work in the first place.”

            “Well yeah, but,” Gerard begins. “I really don’t want you to get hurt.”

“So…what’s the worst that can happen?” Frank reasons. Gerard scoffs and rolls his eyes, so Frank continues, “But really, let’s be realistic here. They beat the shit out of me once, and then they probably never bother me again and I get my things back?”

            “The keyword in that reasoning is ‘probably’,” Gerard points out. “There’s no guarantee they’d leave you alone.”

“I’m asking Ray what he thinks,” Frank mumbles, texting his friend. Ray responds almost instantly, and Frank reads aloud, “‘Let’s protect you at all costs.’”

“So Ray’s up for the Frankie Protection Program?” Gerard replies.

Frank nods, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “Looks like it.”

            “Three different ideas, and no compromise in sight. Aint that America,” Gerard jokes.

Frank giggles, and admits, “Actually, I’m kind of feeling Ray’s idea. Like, we can get the books back somehow. Or I can just go without them for a while; they’re probably bluffing. Five bucks says the books will be returned within two weeks if I don’t retaliate.”

Gerard sighs, agreeing, “I guess we can try it.”

For the next two weeks, Frank is not left alone. It’s lunch one day when Frank stands, telling,

“I have to pee.”

Gerard gets up and follows, explaining, “You know, bathrooms are a very bad place for you to be by yourself.”

Frank groans, insisting, “I won’t be able to go with you watching!”

“Then I won’t watch,” Gerard resolves.

Frank reaches the bathroom, and makes Gerard turn the other way as he uses the urinal. As Frank’s washing his hands, Gerard pushes past, mumbling,

“Fuck, now I’ve got to go.”

Frank peeks out of the corner of his eye, and while Gerard’s hands cover the goods, he can still see a patch of Gerard’s black boxers. Gerard puffs his cheeks out, and lets out a gasp once he’s done.

Gerard turns and begins to wash his hands.

Frank’s eyes are immediately drawn to Gerard’s crotch, and the boy can’t hide his laughter.

Gerard reddens, and demands, “You didn’t look, did you?”

Frank shakes his head and points out, “You have a flap of your boxers sticking out of your fly.”

Gerard goes scarlet and turns his back to Frank, frantically trying to pull his zipper down as Frank continues to giggle. Finally, that portion of the underwear is torn to shreds, but they’re back in Gerard’s pants, safe and sound. “Thanks.”

“It’s what friends are for,” Frank responds. He’s quiet for a moment, and asks, “Can you not breathe and piss at the same time?”

Gerard shrugs. “I _can,_ probably. I just never have.”

Frank chuckles, “You’re so weird.”

This continues, until two weeks have passed and Frank’s books are still not returned. Frank returns to his locker (of course with Ray close behind) to see a new note, which reads,

‘Stop being such a fucking girl. We know you’re using your friends to stay safe, and we’ll take advantage of this.’

Frank shows the note to Gerard, who assures,

“Dude, they’re bluffing. What does that even mean, ‘we’ll take advantage of this?’”

Frank shrugs. “I haven’t the slightest clue. I’m just kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be,” Gerard tells. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

Except things aren’t fine. When Frank goes home that night, his parents are waiting for him, parked right in front of the door.

“Frank Anthony Iero,” his dad snarls in a low, menacing tone. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Frank’s heart skips a beat, and his muscles clench up with fear. What has he done now? “About what?”

“Some boys called,” his mom adds. “Told us you’re gay?”

“I am deeply disappointed in you,” his dad barks. “Not only that, but I’m pissed. Pissed that my son is a faggot, when that’s the only thing I’ve raised you against.”

Frank bites back tears, and replies, “Well, you don’t know that! You can’t trust them!”

His dad produces one of Frank’s Playgirl magazines along with a bundle of his lingerie. “But I can trust this.”

Frank is speechless at first, but manages to stutter out, “Y-you’re being ridiculous!”

“Frank, you have two choices,” his mother begins. “You can burn these things with us and apologize, and then we’ll pretend it never happened.”

“Or,” his dad proceeds. “You can leave. You can go, Frank, and not come back. I either have a straight son or no son; it’s your choice.”

Tears rush down Frank’s face, and he pushes through his parents, bolting up to his room. He locks the door once inside, quickly packing a bag. He ties his sheets together as efficiently as he can and ties them to the headboard of his bed, shimmying down them successfully to the ground. He runs the entire way to Gerard’s house, and doesn’t look back once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I need some questions for my Q&A video!
> 
> If you send one here: http://varsity-frank.tumblr.com/ask then I can write you a fanfiction, rate your blog on Tumblr, or make some fanart for you!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Frank Is Fortunate To Have Gerard Because Who Knows Where He'd Be Without Him (Although One Could Argue He'd Be With Ray)

Frank shows up to Gerard’s door so disheveled that the usually bright, energetic boy is hardly recognizable. His eyeliner is streaked in heavy streams down his face, his eyes and nose are irritated and swollen, and his smile is broken.

Gerard takes him in without question, sitting him down on the couch. Frank stares at the wall as Gerard makes him a cup of tea, and Mikey watches Frank warily from across the room. As Gerard passes by with Frank’s tea in hand, Mikey whispers too loudly,

“Is Frank okay?”, which results in Gerard kicking him in the shin.

Gerard passes the tea to Frank, who just grips the cup tightly, not sipping it. Gerard sighs and sits next to Frank, putting an arm around his friend. He pulls Frank closer in an attempt to comfort him, and asks,

“What happened?”

“My parents,” Frank begins, not tearing his eyes away from the wall. “They think I’m gay.”

Gerard shoos Mikey away, who reluctantly sulks up the stairs. “Do you know how they found out?”

Frank replies, “I’m pretty sure it was those douchebags.” He takes a small drink of his tea, and continues, “I’m not welcome at home, Gerard.” Another tear rolls down his face, and his voice comes out small and childlike when he begs, “Can I please stay here for a while?”

Gerard hugs him, assuring, “Yeah, whatever you need. It’s fine; you can stay in my room with me. Everything will be fine.”

Frank’s in the shower when Gerard explains the situation to his mother, who is more than willing to allow Frank to stay with them for “as long as he needs”. Gerard thanks her, and returns to his room to find Frank changing, his back turned.

Frank’s pulling on a pair of lounge pants over his pink underwear when Gerard slaps a hand over his eyes, stammering, “S-sorry!”

Frank blushes and slips on a shirt. “You can look now, Gerard.”

Gerard sits down on his bed, beginning, “Look, I’m really sorry about everything that’s happened.”

Frank takes a seat as well, and responds, “You know, I don’t really want to talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I… I get it,” Gerard assures.

Frank lays back and closes his eyes, and Gerard takes this as his opportunity. He doesn’t want to scare Frank off, and if he fucks this up, then he’s in for some awkward few weeks sharing a room with him. Nevertheless, he dips in towards Frank, kissing his friend softly.

Frank’s eyes jolt open, but Gerard fails to notice, as his are shut. Frank is confused at first, but slowly relaxes into the kiss, closing his eyes once again.

Gerard towers over Frank, straddling the boy in a push up position. Frank loves it, especially when Gerard’s arms quiver from supporting his weight, making his hips dip into Frank’s for just a split second before Gerard corrects himself.

Gerard runs a hand along the length of Frank’s leg, tickling the inside of Frank’s thigh with his thumb. Frank shivers with anticipation, and for a moment it’s just too much.

Gerard breaks the kiss, sitting on top of Frank’s stomach. He peels off his shirt, dropping it to the floor with a mischievous smirk. Gerard bends in towards Frank’s ear, purring,

“I can give you a handjob, right?”

Frank’s hips twitch, and he nods without hesitation.

Gerard gropes Frank’s crotch, dragging his fingers gradually against the cotton. He tugs Frank’s pants down, and cups him, stroking his thumb across the front of his boxer briefs.

Gerard slips his hand smoothly inside of Frank’s underwear, and he wraps his cold fingers around the base. Frank exhales sharply, mumbling,

“Your fingers are so cold.”

Gerard withdraws, blowing on his hand. He presses it to his own forehead, telling, “It’s warmer now.” He reenters Frank’s underwear, again taking ahold of him.

Frank’s breath catches in the back of his throat as Gerard brings his thumb over the head of Frank’s cock. Gerard slips a hand underneath Frank, grabbing a handful of his ass as he continues.

Frank trembles beneath Gerard, which encourages Gerard to work faster. He slithers down Frank’s stomach, pulling down Frank’s underwear. He licks the length of Frank, and then proceeds to take it all in at once and deep throat him.

            Frank tangles his fingers in Gerard’s hair, his free hand clutching Gerard’s shoulder. “G-Gerard,” he stutters. “You’re going to make me come.”

            Gerard’s words are muffled as he replies, winking at Frank coyly.

            “What?” Frank whimpers, tossing his head back. He grinds his hips forwards to get more from the older boy.

            Gerard stops, only to answer, “I said, ‘That’s the idea.’” He smirks and returns to the blow job, seemingly satisfied with his own wit.

Frank’s comes, holding his breath so he doesn’t make any noise. Gerard rolls his eyes and swallows, questioning, “Why are you so afraid to be loud?”

            “Your parents are upstairs!” Frank retorts.

            “They can’t hear us!” Gerard insists. With that he clears his throat and shouts, “Fuck!”

Frank cringes and waits for Gerard’s parents to scream at them, but it just doesn’t happen. Frank gapes at Gerard, who is grinning smugly. “Told you.”

Frank lay back in bed, wiping himself off on his underwear before peeling them off. He pulls the blankets up to his ribcage, and pats the spot next to him.

            Gerard smiles and crawls over, sliding beneath the covers.

 Frank lay awake on his back as Gerard sleeps on his side, an arm draped over Frank protectively.

Frank gazes over at Gerard dreamily, watches his chest rise and fall with each breath, notices his mouth hanging open a tiny bit. Frank grins, grins because he knows that he can finally call Gerard his own. He pecks his boyfriend on the forehead, so softly that Gerard doesn’t even stir in his slumber. Frank tilts his neck, resting his chin atop of Gerard’s head, and providing a comfy for Gerard in the crook of his neck. Finally Frank dozes off. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'll update soon; I've already started the second chapter!
> 
> My Tumblr: www.varsity-frank.tumblr.com


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